


Trust Me

by kriswritesthings



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Bruises, Hiding, M/M, Past Abuse, Supportive Ted, mike isn’t very good at hiding, or maybe will’s really observant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-26 03:36:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20037265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kriswritesthings/pseuds/kriswritesthings
Summary: Ted Wheeler didn’t mean to trip Mike going up the stairs, really. He’d already apologized a million times, promising to make it up to his son, and Mike understands. It was an accident, and accidents happen.However, Will recognizes Mike’s jumpy behavior as what used to be his own when Lonnie lived with the Byers, and confronts him about it.





	Trust Me

**Author's Note:**

> apparently i really love beating the shit out of mike because in the 2/3 byler fics i’ve written, he’s gotten hurt. sorry not sorry?
> 
> please enjoy the fic!

Ted Wheeler wondered if there was a word more descriptive than stressed to describe his mood this past month. He knew that there probably _ was _ a word that existed, but he was too damn stressed to dwell on it for long. 

Work was a mess. Ted was an accountant, but the company he worked for wasn’t as wealthy as it had once been. While others were advancing their accounting departments with new IBM-PCs, with the fancy word processing and spreadsheet applications, he still had to file everything by hand. His fingers were constantly cramped and his arms ached, years upon years of his profession weighing down on his body. 

It didn’t help that the rest of the department was full of idiots, either. The new guy was complaining about how he had paper cuts littering his hands all the time, the older guy was lagging behind on his work in favor of doodling on his papers instead, and Ted had to pick up all the extra work from his coworkers. 

Yeah, he’d have to find a word for stressed later. 

Ted figured that as he sat down in his worn out recliner after dinner, he deserved a drink to loosen up his tense muscles. A beer was all he could find in the kitchen fridge after a quick scan of its contents, but it would suffice. 

A beer had turned into a couple more being opened after the other was drained, along with a glass of wine from a bottle he’d spotted in passing that sat chilling in their wine cooler. 

Needless to say, Ted was a little more than just tipsy. It was the first time in a very long time that he’d felt such warmth traveling through his veins, even if his vision was blurring and his mind was all jumbled. Ted’s limbs melted into his recliner, settling deep into the comfortable cushions and relishing in the buzz of his skin.

He felt alive even if he was just sitting down, opposite from the soul sucking desk job he’d roped himself into a very long time ago. 

Going to bed was probably the best bet for him. He had been staring at the spinning TV while his drunk mind had wandered off to other things, unaware of how much time was passing. 

Most people stumbled about blindly when they were drunk, but Ted was too tired to even be falling over himself. He was the type of drunk to find a nice place to sit and let his intoxicated mind take him places. He was a little boring like that, as he was in many other aspects (unfortunately).

Ted forced his body to take itself to the stairs and started up the blurry blocks of wood he swore were never as high as he felt they were at the moment. Coincidentally, Mike was going down at the same time to fetch something from the basement. 

Mike noticed his dad’s half-lidded eyes and uneasy way of walking, stopping to place a hand on Teds shoulder when he suddenly swayed in front of him. 

“Dad, you okay?” Mike questioned, already guessing that his father was probably drunk. It was a rare sight to see, but it only made it more recognizable.

“Mike! My son, my son…” Ted slurred, “Y’know, I never tell you… how proud I am…” 

Yeah, his dad was drunk. Never had Ted complimented him the way he just did unless he had received yet another excellent report card or had gotten an A+ on a project Mike worked hard on. Ted turned into an entire other person when intoxicated, like his own mind was betraying him and releasing all of his real inner thoughts.

“Thanks, Dad,” Mike answered gratefully anyway. Even if Ted was drunk, drunk-Ted said things with no filter. “Let’s get you to bed, okay?” 

Ted nodded a little childishly, and tried to place his hand on Mike’s shoulder. Instead, in his drunken state he had landed it too forcefully on Mike’s chest, causing him to lose his balance on the narrow steps of their home. 

Mike was already lanky, having reached 6’3 his junior year, but none of his long limbs had made an attempt to catch himself as he stumbled down the stairs. He felt himself land on his arms, which had instinctively been raised to cover his head, but a few blows to his torso and a particularly sharp one on his back on the last couple of steps had finished off the masterpiece of bruises that was most definitely going to be scattered on Mike’s sensitive skin the next day. 

He landed at the bottom of the stairs in a heaping 6’3 mass after what had seemed like a lifetime and 2 fleeting seconds at the same time. He groaned in the pain that was already blossoming all over his body. 

Even if Ted was drunk, knowing he did something wrong had sobered him up slightly. He almost tripped down the stairs himself rushing to see if Mike was okay. 

“Ah, shit, shit, are you okay? Mikey? Are you hurt?” 

Obviously Mike was hurt, but he shook his head and struggled to push himself onto his elbows. He tried to ignore the agony of his torso and arms and instead focused on how Ted wouldn’t be caught dead cursing in front of his children. 

“I’m so sorry Mikey, I didn’t mean it. I just wanted to…” Ted trailed off, patting Mike on the shoulder without missing this time. 

“Don’t worry about it right now, Dad. Come on, let’s go to bed, okay?” 

Ted nodded to pushed himself up to his feet, giving Mike a not-that-useful hand as he steadily stood up as well. Mike made sure Ted got up the stairs first, guiding him to his bedroom and bidding him a good night. 

Thankfully, Karen and Holly were out on a play date that was running a little late, but it was only 10 pm. 

Mike’s body screamed with every twist he took getting his pajamas. It was a Saturday night, and he was admittedly heading down into the basement so he could grab some things and sneak out to meet up with his friends, but he gave them a quick call on the Walkie Talkie to tell them that he’s been compromised for the night. 

He avoided disclosing the actual reasons of why he couldn’t make it, worried that maybe the party would assume that something else had gone down. ‘My dad pushed me down the stairs on accident’ sounded too suspicious, after all. Mike imagining all the things that would he running through Will’s mind especially.

Of course, Ted Wheeler would never hit his children. He occasionally had a temper, but it was always an outburst of frustration through words that only ever rose when the kids were arguing too loudly from upstairs, or if someone was walking in front of the TV after a long day. Ted loved his children no matter what, even when Mike and Nancy would bicker before Nancy left for college, and he spent a lot of time with Holly when she wasn’t at school or on a playdate. 

Mike figured resting as much as he could would lessen the ache of his body. He was able to pull on a pair of old shorts with a lot of difficulty before giving up on even trying to put on a shirt as well. 

It was only 10 pm, but Mike laid down in his bed under the covers and pulled out a book he’d been meaning to read that was on his bedside table. It would require the least amount of moving, which is what he desperately needed.

Hopefully, he would be able to read himself to sleep and ignore the incessant throbbing of his arms and torso. 

_____

Ted’s head hurt. A lot. He wasn’t one to get intense hangovers, but this one was the worst he’d ever felt waking up the morning after. 

The comforter of his bed were half hazardously thrown over him, as if someone had covered him after a second thought. Bright sunlight filtered into the room and onto the floor in between the crack of the curtains that were still mostly shut.

The spot next to him in bed was disturbed but no one was there. Karen was probably downstairs making breakfast, but Ted realized that she wouldn’t be as it was… 12:26? Had he really been sleeping for that long? 

Ted forced himself to make his way downstairs into the kitchen, only some blurry memories fluttering through his pounding head when he walked through the doorway. 

He didn’t expect to see Mike facing away from him, shirtless and covered in… bruises. 

It all hit Ted at once. Last night, he vaguely remembered getting himself up to go to his bedroom upstairs, until he also recalled that Mike was there. Then… _ shit _. Ted remembered the stumble and Mike rolling down the stairs, something his drunken mind hadn’t fully comprehended at the moment but was still worried about nonetheless. 

It was his fault his son’s torso was colored various shades of blue and purple. 

“Dad?” Mike had turned around with 2 mugs of coffee in his hands, presumably an extra to give his father later.

“Christ, Mike, I’m so sorry,” Ted immediately apologized. He felt awful, physically but now also mentally. How had he been able to mess up so much? 

“It’s alright, Dad, it was an accident,” Mike said, but he winced when he accidentally knocked his arm into the island counter in the middle of the kitchen. 

“I know, I know, but I shouldn’t have gotten so…” Ted trailed off. Mike nodded to show he knew what he was saying. “Does it hurt a lot?” 

“A little,” Mike said, far undermining how much pain he was actually in. 

“I’ll make it up to you. Right now I’ll go get something to calm the bruises down, but I promise that as soon as I have the chance we can go somewhere, anywhere you want,” Ted said, gratefully accepting one of the coffee mugs as he went to the bathroom to fish some ointment from their first aid kit. 

_____

“I’m okay, really,” Mike insisted after managing to pull on a shirt to cover the ointment settling on his bruises. 

Ted was still doubtful, having it be the third time that day that he asked his son if he was okay, if he wanted to go out to get some ice cream or something of the like. It was only 1:30, Mike noted. 

Karen and Holly were out on a Sunday grocery shopping trip, being out a little longer than usual considering almost everyone in Hawkins went shopping on Sunday. It left Ted to worry while watching TV in the living room, fidgeting in his recliner. 

“You wanna skip school tomorrow and get some rest?” 

“No, I have important things to do tomorrow,” Mike responded from the kitchen, where he emerged with a bowl of chips in his hand, presumably to take to his room. Normally Ted would prohibit food in the kid’s rooms, but he let it slide.

Mike already told the party he was stuck in the house for the day, wanting to avoid any physical activity until it was necessary. He only told them that Ted was keeping him inside to finish up some housework and whatnot, but an extra day to catch up on school work or start some projects wasn’t bad at all. 

_____

Ted apologized one more time before he went to bed. Mike chuckled and reassured his dad that, _ yes, _he was_ absolutely fine._

He didn’t tell his dad how much it hurt to move more than his hands around at a time, but he didn’t need Ted feeling worse than he already did. 

Mike planned on going to sleep earlier so that he could wake up earlier as well. Putting on clothes had proven to take much longer than usual when he wanted to go as slowly as possible to not hurt himself. 

He picked through some of the garments in his closet, wondering what would suffice to cover up his bruised arms for the next day. It was the middle of spring, and the weather only got hotter and hotter as the days went by. 

Mike found the thinnest sweater he owned, which was only slightly too small on him and he remembered that it rode up his midriff if he raised his arms. He’d have to avoid raising his hand in class too much, lest the sweater fly up and reveal the prominent bruise along his lower back.

Unfortunately, he remembered the next school day was also a PE day. How he was going to kid while changing in the locker room without being too suspect, he didn’t know, but he tried on the sweater he found to see if it had somehow gotten even smaller since the last time he wore it in the winter.

It was definitely too tight, but it’s dark-gray color would manage to make it pass as an exercise shirt. Maybe. Hopefully.

He packed sweatpants as well, opting to wear those during gym class and to wear another pair during the day.

It would work, he tried to convince himself. Truthfully, he didn’t know how much of the school day he’d be able to take if he had to move around a lot. He was sore all over, and it hurt to even walk for too long. 

Curse the Wheeler stairs to be as slippery as they were. 

_____

“Hey, Mike!” Will was the first one to greet him as he biked up to the bike racks of the high school. 

“Hey, Will,” Mike said, securing his bike on the rack. He internally cringed at how tired he sounded. Sleep was difficult to obtain, as every time he turned a throb of a bruise woke him up. 

Dustin and Lucas hadn’t arrived to school yet, but Mike overestimated how much time he needed to get ready in his state and was earlier than usual. 

Will was always early, not needing as much sleep as the others to function. He had some form of caffeine running through his veins at all times anyway. 

“What’s with the fashion statement today?” Will questioned curiously. A sweater and sweatpants was unlike Mike in normal circumstances, but it was even more odd when it was over 70 degrees that day. 

“It was, uh, a little chilly in the house today. I just found it on the floor somewhere,” Mike excused, wanting to take the topic off of his appearance as soon as he could. 

He started a conversation about school work as a distraction. Unfortunately, Will followed along with little interest as he was still dwelling on Mike’s clothes. 

Mike liked to dress nice for school. It was partly because Karen’s high standard of appearance for herself and her children, but Will assumed it was also because Mike kind of liked the attention he got from dressing up. He wasn’t one to put himself out there often, but his put togetherness got him a couple of compliments in the hallway everyday. 

So, a sweater and sweatpants was odd. Even if Mike was feeling a little lazy, Will knew he would’ve added some flair by rolling up the sleeves and cuffing the sweatpants. 

Dustin and Lucas came soon, finally interrupting Mike’s nervous attempts at conversation. They didn’t seem to notice anything different about their friend, but Will decided to keep an eye on Mike for the next couple of days. 

_____

Mike’s first couple of classes had gone by without a problem, even if he wasn’t too participative. None of the party were in his first, second, and third classes, but fourth period was PE. 

He shuffled into the locker room with Lucas and Will. Dustin had PE after lunch, and he didn’t feel like skipping his elective class to sneak into the gym class that day. 

Will and Lucas placed their books onto the benches of the locker room and went to fetch their gym clothes from their gym locker. Mike had his clothes in his gym bag already, but he needed to figure out how to get them to the bathroom stall inconspicuously so he could change in privacy. 

He decided to simply grab his bag and head out to the toilet stalls. Will and Lucas would come back in a second, but they wouldn’t notice Mike’s bag with him if he was too far away. 

Or at least, he thought they wouldn’t. 

“Don’t you think it’s a little weird Mike’s going to change in the bathroom stall?” Will asked Lucas, who was already stripping and pulling on his gym shirt when they returned to the bench with their things.

“I didn’t really notice,” Lucas responded. It wasn’t that he wasn’t that observant, but Mike’s behavior wasn’t strange to him. Everyone had their days, and it was a Monday anyway. 

“He was acting weird this morning though, don’t you think? I mean, he’s wearing a sweater and sweatpants in 70 degree weather,” Will pointed out. He was referencing how shifty Mike’s eyes had been, and how he kept on pulling down on the sleeves of his sweater down to cover his wrists. 

“I dunno. I’m just a little tired, honestly,” Lucas said, finally lacing up his sneakers. Will was doing the same, having already pulled on an old t-shirt and shorts. 

The gym teacher yelled out that the boys should be ready to go out soon, right as Mike was leaving the stall. 

Yeah, Will confirmed with himself that something was wrong with Mike. 

He hadn’t seen the gray long sleeved shirt Mike used to wear often since they were in middle school, at the least. It was obvious to Will that Mike was hiding something, but in the eyes of anyone who wasn’t as close to him they would think he had one of those tight fancy gym shirts advertised in sports magazines. 

At least Mike had the decency to cuff the pair of sweatpants he was wearing, but only because they were probably too long. He looked like he was already suffocating from the heat in his clothes. 

Will didn’t comment on it this time, instead acting as if he hadn’t noticed the sudden exchange of Mike’s usual gym shirt and shorts for winter pants and long sleeves. He figured that he’d only had to observe Mike’s behavior to confirm what was already turning the gears in his mind. 

Of course, as soon as Will saw Mike pull up to school on his bike looking like it hurt to even move his legs, the image reminded him of when he was younger and Lonnie was still married to Joyce. 

It wasn’t unlike Will to wear clothes much too large after one of Lonnie’s rages. No one noticed that his arms and torso were covered up at all times, even when it was scorching hot outside, just so no one would notice the numerous injuries lining his too-pale skin. 

He’d never talked about it in depth with the party before, though. He knew that they probably had an idea of what Lonnie had done to him and Jonathan as kids, but they never knew the extent of the abuse from the bastard of a man. 

So, Will wasn’t surprised that Lucas and Dustin hadn’t noticed anything about Mike’s behavior. Sure, he was a little quieter, but only Will noticed the suppressed wince from when someone bumped into his arm in the hall and the nervous pulling at the hem of his sweater. 

Yeah, Will knew it all too well. 

When they were stretching with the rest of the class before the actual exercises started, Will watched Mike barely attempt most of the stretches. 

They required him to bend over stretch his back, or to extend his arms to loosen them up, but after Mike tried to touch his toes he knew it was no use. He didn’t attempt to pretend like he was trying either, instead choosing to talk animatedly with Lucas and weakly stretch his legs. 

Will continued to observe Mike all through PE. They went outside onto the track and got to choose between doing laps or playing an exercise game with the gym teachers. 

Usually they’d all play the game and not try too hard on it, but today it involved a lot of throwing and push ups. Mike opted to run laps today, but Lucas payed it no mind as he and Will went over to where the rest of the class was gathering for the game. 

Mike was on the winter track team, and he wanted to run laps sometimes anyway, Lucas thought to himself. Even with Will’s suspicion, he didn’t think anything was too off. Besides, they were so close that Mike would talk to them if anything was wrong for sure.

_____

At the end of PE, Mike managed to sneak off to change in the stall again. He thought he got off pretty scotch free, hoping Will had bought that he was fine in the morning and wouldn’t be paying too much attention to him. 

The three were on their way to lunch so they could finally meet up with Dustin and Max. Hopper still had El homeschooled with a tutor he hired for her, so she had never been able to join them at school before. 

Meanwhile, Will was formulating a plan to try and confirm his suspicions. 

They entered the school cafeteria, quickly finding their usually lunch table. Max was already seated and was picking at her school bought food, before Dustin finally stumbled his way through the cafeteria doors ranting about something from his last class. 

Lucas and Max listened intently, but Will noticed that Mike was in his own little world when they were all sitting and pulling out the lunches they brought from home. 

They were in their usual formation of seats, Will seated next to Mike, and Max, Lucas, and Dustin across from them at the table. Even if El couldn’t go to school with them, they left her a seat at the corner of the table for her spirit to eat with them. 

The conversation was rolling when Lucas and Dustin began to bicker about something regarding one of their favorite arcade games, Dragon’s Lair. Will and Max contributed as well, but Mike picked at his sandwich as if he’d throw up the moment he ate anything. 

Will reached over to grab one of Lucas’s chips, feigning bumping into Mike’s forearm by accident. The wince wasn’t unnoticed by Will, who apologized and continued listening to the conversation as if he hadn’t seen it. 

Will wondered what else he could do to try and prove his theory to himself, until Dustin had done the perfect thing for him. 

Dustin never had a real idea of what “personal space” was. He was a touchy person in general, opting for hugs and arms around the shoulders rather than regular greetings when he was with his friends, but he wasn’t afraid to play with the hem of the shirt of whoever he was next to, which the Party had grown used to. It was just one of Dustin’s little quirks they’ve grown accustomed to.

“Mikey, what’s with the sleeves?” He asked as he reached over his lunch and tried to thumb Mike’s shirt sleeve. 

Mike’s hand jumped back in panic when Dustin’s fingers barely brushed over it, like he was burned. He pulled the sleeve down over his wrist like he had been the entire lunch period. 

“Just a little cold today,” Mike answered nonchalantly, but everyone saw his reaction. They didn’t want to say anything about it, but they were all wondering the same thing. 

Will gave an “_ I-told-you-so _” look to Lucas, who only shrugged and nodded in defeat when he realized that Will was right. Something was definitely wrong. 

“My bad,” Dustin mumbled, a little hurt. He wasn’t used to his innocent touches being so vehemently rejected within the party and retracted his hand into his lap. 

Mike muttered something to the affect of “_ don’t apologize”, _but the group was already put off. They didn’t know how to continue the conversation without it being awkward, but no one wanted to be the ones to ask Mike about his behavior. 

Thankfully, they were saved by the bell indicating they were to move to their next class. Dustin waved them goodbye and head to the doors closest to the gymnasium for PE, and everyone else went in the direction of their lockers. 

Mike trailed behind them, but Will was the only one who made an attempt to stay with him. 

“I gotta go to class, Will,” Mike tried, wishing Will would stop giving him _ that _look. 

“Wait,” Will said, stopping Mike with a grip on his wrist that was slightly too tight. 

Mike hoped the squeak that left his mouth wasn’t loud enough for Will to hear, but it was. 

Will bit his lip. He wanted to ask Mike to come over to his house after school, but Joyce was planning on Hopper and El to come over for a movie night. 

“...Yeah?” Mike said. Will was staring at him for a little too long, seemingly lost in thought. 

He snapped out of it. “Can you come over after school on Tuesday?” 

“Y-yeah, sure,” Mike answered, forever ungrateful for his voice betraying him by cracking as it did. 

Will nodded and let go of Mike, who spun around quickly to get to his locker. 

It was enough for Will to create a pretty good idea of Mike’s situation and the explanation to his behavior, but a large part of him wanted to be wrong. Totally, incredibly, wrong. 

_____

Will weakly waved at Mike when they took the turn that took them the opposite directions to their house. Mike made an attempt of a wave as well, but it only resulted in a wince and a glance away. 

Will couldn’t stop thinking about what it all implied. 

Would Mike’s parents really hit him? Will knew Karen Wheeler very well, and it seemed unlike her, but with all the years that he had come over he never had an idea of what Teds personality was like. Even when Will would stay for dinner, Ted seemed wildly secluded and uninterested in the table conversation. He was just a bland man, overall. 

However, was he like Lonnie, uncontrollable when he was drunk? 

Exactly how much had Mike been hiding? Will racked his brain to see if he could remember what Mike was wearing on Friday, but he couldn’t remember. He didn’t recognize any shifty behavior, though.

Was this weekend the first time? Will remembered the first time Lonnie had hit him, right after Jonathan had gotten in trouble as well. Will was shaken and he probably acted the same way that Mike was acting at school. 

Will had to shake out the memories from his head. He was worried for Mike, more worried than he’d been for him in a long time. Bringing back memories of the years of his life with Lonnie in their family wasn’t helping. 

He had until tomorrow after school to figure out how to bring up the topic, though. He’d be able to do it without problems, right?

_____

Up until after lunch, the next school day had gone just how Will had expected. 

Mike came to school a little later that day, sporting another sweater and different sweatpants. He was a little more relaxed, but if Will got too close to him he became jumpier. 

Lunch was a little better, the party choosing to awkwardly ignore Mike’s outburst from yesterday. Mike inserted himself into the conversation more, but would still zone out at times. 

It was the class before last period that offput Will for sure. It was the one class they had together, which they were always thankful for. 

Mike sat in the row next to him, a couple of seats up. He was quieter than usual, but his hand instinctively shot up in air when their teacher asked a question he absolutely knew the answer to. 

What Mike failed to noticed in time was that he was leaning forward in his seat rather than leaning back like he usually did, just to alleviate the pain on his lower back. 

When he raise his hand quickly, his sweater followed and Will noticed the large bruise turning green on his back. 

When he realized a second later, Mike tried to casually reach behind him to pull down at the hem of his shirt, but it was too late. 

It seemed that no one in class noticed, but Will knew what he saw. He couldn’t convince himself it was just a weird shadow or somehow something else, being too used to seeing bruises when he was younger to mistaken it for anything different. 

_____

Mike met Will at his locker after school. He had no idea Will saw. 

“You ready?” Will asked after he placed all the books he needed in his backpack and closed his locker. 

Mike nodded. He looked nervous, something in the back of him telling that Will wasn’t looking just to hang out. 

The bike ride to Will’s house was silent save for surface level pleasantries, and the air was awkward when they arrived and entered his home. 

Mike felt that it was odd not to be catching a ride with Jonathan like usual, throwing his bike in the trunk before they left the school parking lot and chattering in his car. Jonathan had left for college like Nancy had, which left Will and Mike alone until Joyce came home from work. 

They went to Will’s room, ready to start working on their homework and talk like they usually would when they hung out after school.

Instead, Mike placed his backpack on Will’s bed and walked around his room, observing the new drawings taped up to the walls. He hadn’t been to the Byers house in a while, and he always checked out what was new when he came.

“So…” Will mumbled, not really knowing what to say. 

Mike’s shuffle lagged for a moment, but he resumed as if his hand hadn’t nervously begun to twitch. 

“Is it hot in the sweater?” Will asked nonchalantly. 

“Not really, I’m just… cold.” The truth was that Mike was just barely surviving in the suffocating heat of it, but the bruises were starting to get worse before they were getting better. 

Will nodded, not believing him for a second. “Is that so?”

_ Shit, fuck, fuck, shit, he knows_, Mike panicked. 

“Yep,” Mike answered, but his voice audibly cracked. 

“Is everything okay… at home?” Will was sat on his bed, watching Mike closely as he stopped moving and stared at the wall of drawings. 

“...Yes.” Mike didn’t hide it as well as he thought he was. He should’ve known Will would notice, but he knew that his friends would think something completely different if he told them the truth. 

“I’m not stupid, Mike,” Will eventually sighed, falling back to lie down on his bed and stare at the ceiling. “I acted the same way the first time Lonnie… y’know.” 

“W-What? Dad didn’t hit me, Will,” Mike immediately defended. He crossed his arms. 

“Then why are you trying so hard to hide your arms and legs? I know what it’s like,” Will argued. He just wanted Mike to trust him! 

“I fell down the stairs!” God, even though it was the truth Mike still sounded like he was lying. “I swear on my life.” 

“You said that when you told Nancy you didn’t take her spare change for arcade games too,” Will brought up. “Y-you can trust me, Mike! We’ve been through so much, _ I’ve _been through so much, but I didn’t have anyone and—“ 

“_Will.” _Mike interrupted, but Will was having none of it. 

“No, _ no. _ I want you to know that I’m here. I _ need _ you to know that _I_ know what it’s like and _ I love you _ too goddamn much to watch you suffer in sweaters and pants and flinch every time someone touches y—“ 

It hit Mike all at once. “_Will.” _

Will was finally silent now, overwhelmed, breathing hard, and not fully processing his words. All that could flood his mind was loneliness, loneliness that plagued him in the corner of his room when it was just him and Jonathan hiding out, hoping Lonnie wouldn’t come in when he was yelling outside the door. It was nerves biting at the back of his neck watching Lonnie tip back one more drink down his throat at the dinner table, wondering what his limit would be that night, praying to whatever God was out there that he would pass out instead of rage. 

Will didn’t realize he was crying. He didn’t know why, whether it was the memories flashing by or the thought that Mike might have felt the same way he had all those years ago, but he was shaken back to reality when a pair of arms were wrapped around his shoulders. 

Mike watched as Will slowly descended into a panic attack and rushed over to calm him down the best way he knew how. He used his arms as a safety blanket and hugged Will tightly, tear stains forming on his front be damned. 

They could have stayed there for hours and Mike wouldn’t have cared. Even if his arms ached and his legs were bent at an awkward angle to reach Will, who was sitting at the edge of the bed and had his own arms tied around Mike’s waist. 

Mike gently raked his fingers through Will’s hair, waiting until his breathing slowed down and he pulled himself away from Mike. 

“Sorry about that,” Will mumbled after a moment, seemingly realizing where he was again. He shyly wiped his eyes with the back of his hand as Mike sat next to him on the bed.

“Don’t apologize, Will. You feeling a little better?” Mike instinctively grabbed Will’s hand and rubbed circles on his knuckles. They were used to comforting each other with no boundaries after all.

Will sniffled. “Yeah, just… I’m worried, Mike.” 

“Look at me,” Mike said, turning on the bed so he was facing Will. Will did the same and reluctantly looked up into Mike’s earnest eyes. “I’m fine. Dad got a little drunk and he tried to put his hand on my shoulder on the stairs and I tripped on accident. He even told me he was proud of me before he did it. I swear on whatever’s up in the sky, no one hit me.” 

Mike’s voice was so sincere that Will nodded. He trusted him. 

They were still holding hands, but neither noticed or cared. 

“Can I… Can I see?” Will tentatively asked. 

“See what?” 

“T-The bruises. I wanna see how bad it is.” 

Mike nodded and pulled away to take his sweater off. The problem with it being so small for him was that it was already too tight to wear, but reaching down to pull the hem of the bottom over his head made his body scream. 

“Here, I’ll help,” Will said after noticing how much Mike was struggling. 

Mike tried to get out of the sweater on his own one more time before giving up and letting Will do it, fingers just barely scraping over his sensitive skin as he gently pulled the cloth over Mike’s bowed head.

“Shit,” Will whispered, sucking a breathe in through his teeth. 

He discarded the sweater off to the side and directed all of his attention into Mike’s pale torso. 

Some of the bruises were turning green, though they were only a couple of days old. The larger ones remained dark, ugly shades of blue and purple, but the smaller ones littered on his chest were barely noticeable under the daylight shining through his window. 

“This was _ all _ just from falling down the stairs?” Will’s voice was quiet. 

Mike shrugged. “I’m sensitive.” 

_____

An hour passed.

After Mike pulled his sweater back on, they had rearranged themselves so that they could both lie on Will’s bed side by side, even if it was far too small for their taller teenage selves. Neither cared that they had to be smushed up against each other to fit comfortably, either. 

Mike’s feet dangled off the edge even if they were lying down vertically. He absentmindedly bounced them in the air while he and Will talked. 

Now that Will’s conscious was cleared, he was back to his old self. The two ignored their homework and were able to chatter as they always did, endless with laughter and quick witted commentary as the setting sun gleamed onto the scene through the blinds. 

There was a lull in the conversation, but it wasn’t awkward. They were used to comfortable silence, but they enjoyed each other’s presence regardless. 

“So…” Mike started, nudging Will’s arm with his elbow. “What was that about you loving me?” 

It took Will a second to remember what Mike meant, until he remembered what had slipped through his mouth during his ramble. 

“Uh,” Will mumbled, face burning up. He was scrambling for something to say but nothing came to mind. Should he make an excuse? 

“I… I love you too, Will,” Mike said for him, chuckling when he glanced at Will’s glowing face. He found Will’s hand and interlocked their fingers together, relishing in how much larger his hand was compared to Will’s. 

There wasn’t a need to end it off with a grand gesture; They’ve both known it for a very long time. Sure, they’ve never said it out loud before then, but some things are meant to tie in together naturally. 

Despite how hard his heart was beating, the air in Will’s lungs was never clearer. Knowing Mike was alright and they were alright and, _ did Mike just squeeze his hand? Did he imagine that? _

He squeezed back anyway. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> when talking with my stranger things friends (i love em sm btw) about fics, we all talked about how a lot of byler fics kind of villainize ted (probably for lack of antagonism that can add to plot). i wanted to write something that could possibly counter that! 
> 
> i’m also fully aware this is garbage writing, apologies for that. 
> 
> i hope you enjoyed reading, and please leave a kudos and a comment if you did <3 have a lovely day!!


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